


A Parting Gift

by jenna221b



Category: Ghosts (TV 2019), Good Omens (TV)
Genre: 1940s, Aziraphale's Bookshop (Good Omens), Bittersweet, Crossover, Gen, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Missing Scene, Pre-Scene: Church in London 1941 (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:01:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27458404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenna221b/pseuds/jenna221b
Summary: “Excuse me,” Fell says, in a tone that invokes the chalky smell of classrooms, and stern headmasters. “We are most assuredlyclosed.”Havers squirms in the doorway, feeling increasingly caught out. “Oh, I’m—I’m dreadfully sorry. I don’t know why I…”He trails off at the feeling of a slight breeze, somehow gently nudging him into the shop proper.Oh, no,it seems to say.I think you know exactly why you came here.Fell’s gaze is piercing, and it suddenly feels as if Havers is being seen for the very first time. Then, Fell’s expression inexplicably softens.“On second thought,” Fell says. “Perhaps you had better come in.”
Relationships: Aziraphale & Lieutenant Havers, Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), The Captain/Lieutenant Havers (Ghosts TV 2019)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 141





	A Parting Gift

Havers is not sure what exactly compels him to open the door. The sign in the bookshop window is certainly flipped to ‘closed’, after all. And yet, he reaches for the handle anyway, inexplicably drawn to it, like there’s a magnet underneath his palm.

At first glance, the place looks empty. The evening sun casts long shadows across the floorboards; the dwindling light turns floating specks of dust into little golden orbs. Havers has half a second to enjoy the sight, the myriad of bookshelves, before his gaze lands on an appalled looking man, who is frozen in the act of turning a page. With an indignant huff, the man slams the book shut, clunking it into a haphazard place on the shelf, all while keeping up a withering glare through his reading glasses. Ah. A.Z. Fell, presumably. The owner.

“Excuse me,” Fell says, in a tone that invokes the chalky smell of classrooms, and stern headmasters. “We are most assuredly _closed_.”

Havers squirms in the doorway, feeling increasingly caught out. “Oh, I’m—I’m dreadfully sorry. I don’t know why I…”

He trails off at the feeling of a slight breeze, somehow gently nudging him into the shop proper. _Oh, no,_ it seems to say. _I think you know exactly why you came here_. Fell’s gaze is piercing, and it suddenly feels as if Havers is being seen for the very first time. Then, Fell’s expression inexplicably softens.

“On second thought,” Fell says. “Perhaps you had better come in.”

Havers stares.

“Well, close the door, won’t you!” Fell tuts. “Honestly, I don’t want the whole street in here.”

Havers shuts the door in a stunned silence. It feels like a strange dream, to finally be inside the place he has walked past but never had the chance—never made the chance—to visit. He knows tonight may be his only remaining opportunity to do so.

“Well, then.” Fell has half turned away from him, but speaks with a confidence that says he somehow knows Havers is still there. “What brings you here?”

Havers clears his throat. “I’d—um, I had rather hoped to buy a book.”

Fell chuckles dryly. “Yes, I’d thought as much.” He gives a little put-upon sigh, one that thankfully sounds at least partly in jest. “People often do have such hopes. What sort of book?”

“Oh.” Havers blinks. “Oh, I don’t suppose it matters, really. It’s a…a parting gift, of sorts, so I suppose it’s rather more about the—well, the gesture rather than the…” Fell glances at him amid gathering books. His smile is gentle and encouraging. And suddenly, even though it is intolerably dusty in the room, Havers feels like he can finally breathe properly. “It’s for a… a friend. A very dear friend,” he finishes. And, it’s a miracle, to for once feel no need to run or hide or conceal anything.

Fell’s smile grows. “I see,” he says warmly. “In that case.” He gestures at the many books. “Do take your time.”

Havers smiles back.

*

Havers settles on an anthology of poetry. “You know, he tends to get quite stuck in his own head,” he had remarked to Fell. It was such a short, inadequate way of saying _He deserves to smile more. Oh, he can be so witty, and sharp, and funny, and wonderful_ … “So, I thought—you know, no ghost stories or some such…nothing gloomy.”

Fell’s answering laughter was genuine, as if his own reaction was an honest surprise to him. Havers had the impression that he may not have truly laughed for some time.

“Oh, that does remind me of my…” And then, Fell had trailed off with a fleeting, sad little smile.

Now, Havers is being ushered out of the shop, book in hand. “But, look here, I haven’t paid you,” he insists, as Fell rushes to lock up.

Fell tuts again. “Oh, don’t be silly, that doesn’t—though, I do hate to rush you, dear boy,” he says, and he truly does sound sorry. He’s donned a hat and coat, and carries a bag that has just been feverishly packed with books. “Only I’m afraid I have a rather pressing engagement.”

“No, no, of course, but I really must pay—”

“Ah, but, you see, I _have_ closed now,” Fell says, eyes twinkling. “Now, you will get home safely?” It sounds like a question, but Havers feels a curious warmth settling in his chest, and he somehow knows that, yes, indeed he will. “And, you’ll tell him, won’t you?” Fell continues.

“Today’s my last day of leave,” Havers deflects expertly. “I shall have to tell him I’m leaving very soon.”

Fell’s wistful smile is an answer all of its own, indicating that wasn’t exactly what he had meant. “Life is a very short, precious thing,” he says quietly.

There’s that warmth in his chest again. Havers breathes in deep, and feels a little lighter, a little more at peace with—if not the world, at least himself. “I’ll tell him,” he promises.

Fell nods, and shakes his hand. “Take care. Godspeed.”

They are almost out of sight of one another, when Havers turns around. “I say,” he shouts to Fell, knowing that he does not have the full picture, but that this is certainly the right thing to say. “I do hope your chap comes back to you.”

Fell laughs once more. It’s a slightly changed sound, like a little bell, a tremor of hope is ringing in the night air. He tips his hat. “Thank you, my dear.”

*

When Havers returns to Button House, there is a face waiting for him in the window, as always. His captain. Havers watches him, heart fit to burst with fondness, at how he smiles, and tentatively raises his hand, like the darling man is not sure whether it should be a wave or a salute.

Havers laughs, and waves back, knowing that all the poetry in the world could not encapsulate this moment, and all the love he feels.

**Author's Note:**

> what a weekend, huh!!! <3 <3 <3


End file.
